


The Thousand Year Ache

by SerenityStargazer



Series: Temptations [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fantasizing together, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, OC-Mal-innkeeper's son, reconnecting, secret meeting, wanking together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityStargazer/pseuds/SerenityStargazer
Summary: After Aziraphale banishes Crowley, the pair find a way to communicate. It isn't satisfactory, but it will have to do for now."So, Angel...a thousand years? Really? Bit of overkill, wouldn't you say?" The demon said it with a lilt of teasing in his voice. He figured it needed to be said and dealt with so Aziraphale would stop fretting about it."I just...panicked!" Aziraphale admitted in a wretched voice. He twisted his ring as he worried his hand, a true tell to just how upset he felt inside."On the other hand, it did the trick, didn't it?" Crowley asked gently. "I got a commendation; you got a commendation. No Falling for you; no torture for me. This isn't perfect, but we'll make it through.""But...I miss you so. I can't believe I sentenced myself to a thousand years without seeing you. Touching you. Kissing you," Aziraphale said in a soft, sad voice. His shoulders began to shake.Well, shit. That wouldn't do at all! Crowley thought and then he said, "Hey, Angel? Do you know what I'm wearing?""Wha-wha-what?" the baffled angel snuffled.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Temptations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564789
Kudos: 35





	The Thousand Year Ache

**Author's Note:**

> This is part three of my Temptations series. It will make a lot more sense if you read the other parts first.  
> I'm sorry it took so long to get this posted. I usually wait till I have the whole piece written, but this is going to cover a lot of years and I was getting overwhelmed. So I decided to post a chapter each week to keep things manageable.

Aziraphale looked up from his work when the young boy gently tugged at the sleeve of his brown homespun robe. He placed the quill down to make sure he didn't splatter any ink on the page he was transcribing.

"Yes, Mal?" he inquired. "Can I help you?" 

His eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped opened when he read the message. His heart leapt and he felt like his skin was aflame. Only two words, but he felt his world rock with them.

**_Miss me?_ **

With effort, the angel collected himself and looked at the puzzled boy. Mal's brown eyes searched Aziraphale's face anxiously, fearing he had upset his friend.

"No worries, my dear" he reassured the lad. "I think this is very good news indeed. Just...unexpected. Could you describe the man who gave you the note?"

"Sure, Brother Aziraphale," Mal said, eager to help. "He was tall and thin, with flaming hair."

"Dressed in black was he? Wearing dark glasses?" Aziraphale asked with a fond smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, sir! Is he a friend of yours?"

"Friend?" The blond man looked startled and maybe a bit panicky. "No, we're not friends! Barely...work acquaintances from long ago. However, I do need to reply to his...inquiry. Give me just a moment, please."

He thought and then wrote a message of his own, sprinkling it with sand to dry the ink and then blowing it away. He folded the paper neatly in half and gave it to the boy. “I hate to keep you running back and forth, Mal, but the gentleman might have more to say. Would you be available to run letters later on today?”

“He paid me well, sir. I’ll be happy to help. I know you are very busy with your work here.”

“Thank you, my dear. You are most helpful. Off you go then. I hope to see you later.”

The boy grinned and left, leaving Aziraphale to his thoughts.

^o0o^

When Mal got back to the inn, people were starting to wander in for lunch. He scanned the room for the man in black, knowing his mother would be needing his help in the kitchen. Luckily, the man's copper hair made him easy to spot in the sea of brunette farmers and vineyard workers. There he was - over in the far corner with a bottle of wine watching people as they came in and greeted their friends.

"Sir! I have a message for you from Brother Aziraphale!" Mal held the note out to the man, mysterious behind a pair of darkened glasses that hid his eyes.

"Thank you, Mal," the man said with no trace of emotion. Mal noticed that his hand trembled a bit as he took the paper from him though. "Check back with me this afternoon. I may have another errand for you."

"Yes, sir. I will see you later," the boy said with a grin as he headed off to the kitchen. Any task that let him roam out from under his mother's watchful eye was good enough for him.

Crowley tucked the unopened note into his tunic, gathered the wine and mug, and headed upstairs to his room. Couldn't be too careful. Walls had ears, ya know. Or eyes. Whatever. Sometimes folks Down There learned things he would prefer they didn't. He preferred to avoid taking chances when it came to a certain blond angel.

Once in his room, Crowley sat and searched for anything that might relay information to his Head Office. The last time he had felt safe and secure had ended in disaster. He had been banished from Aziraphale's sight for a thousand years! Ok, well, that last part was all on Aziraphale. He hadn't even been able to complain about it because he couldn't get close to the angel.

He had tried a few times over the past four centuries. But if Aziraphale spotted him, even in a crowd, bam! Back to Hell he popped! So this time, he was being extra cautious. Had a plan and everything. And the note rubbing along his stomach was proof that the first part of his plan had worked.

Reaching inside his shirt, his long fingers fished out the note from Aziraphale. Although any one watching him would have deemed him uninterested, inside he was all fireworks and wedding toasts. Savoring the moment, he opened the paper to read his angel's message.

**_Always. So good to hear from you, dear boy. Mind how you go. A._ **

"I miss you, too, Angel," he whispered softly. The demon smiled down at the note. It wasn't even close to holding Aziraphale, but it was a start. It was the closest he had been to the angel in centuries and, despite himself, hope fluttered in his chest. Maybe they couldn't see each other, but they could communicate.

Hmmm. Couldn't see each other. He knew Aziraphale couldn't see him without the banishment taking effect. But maybe...Crowley went to his small desk and wrote another note to Aziraphale. Then he went back downstairs to start making inquiries about his new idea.

^o0o^

The summer flew into autumn and letters flew from the monastery to the inn and back again. Aziraphale would let Crowley know on days he would be in town and the demon would go off and cause mischief elsewhere for the day.

Crowley had everything in place for the next step in his plan. If everything worked, they'd get to actually talk to each other. And he'd get to see Aziraphale. Aziraphale couldn't see him, but that couldn't be helped for the next six hundred years.

He hadn't breathed a word of his plan to Aziraphale. He didn't want to disappoint the angel if things fell through or he found a flaw in his scheme. If he overlooked a detail, it would be straight back to Hell for him and another century or two before he could risk contacting the angel again.

The trees were bare and the grass was brown and covered in frost each morning by the time Crowley was satisfied. He double checked his instructions for the angel, folded the note and sent Mal off to the monastery. Then he left the inn, sauntering casually, but keeping an eye out from behind his glasses for any familiar entities. He wanted one last look around the place before Aziraphale came for his surprise.

^o0o^

Aziraphale wiggled happily when Mal handed him the note. He tucked it into a pocket of his robe to read in his room later. It was harder to concentrate with the note burning through the fabric to warm his leg. He had so missed the demon. Letters were a poor substitute for Crowley’s actual presence. He paused and thought back to that long ago Christmas day. His lips tingled, remembering the shared kisses and his hand traced circles on his thigh. And then everything had gone bottom up. He sighed and got back to his work. Six hundred years, sixty-three days and fourteen hours. But who was counting?

He waited until after lunch, when he usually returned to his room for an hour or two of reading. He closed his eyes and mentally scanned for any ethereal or occult presences. Satisfied that he was truly alone, he pulled out the paper and gave a happy little wiggle as he opened it.

**_Got a surprise for you, Angel. I’ve been planning it for a bit now. You need to follow the directions, even if they seem daft. I’ll make it worth the bother._ **

**_Always, C_ **

There was another bit of paper with directions. There was a small map, too. Aziraphale was mystified, but it was rather exciting. A secret location? A surprise? The directions said he had to wait until after vespers to sneak out along the trail behind the vineyard. He felt ready to explode with anticipation already. How was he going to last the next six hours?

Impatiently. That’s how he lasted. When the chimes finally sounded for vespers, he was jumping out of his skin in excitement. He had left the note locked safely in the box in his room, bringing only the map. But he had the short note memorized and replayed it, lingering over the “Always”. “I love you”s were hard for the demon, and dangerous if the notes fell into the wrong hands. But Aziraphale understood and his heart sang back silently as he made his way out to the vineyard path. He had never traveled the path into the woods before, so he wanted to get to the rendezvous spot before nightfall. He checked around before entering the woods, making sure he wasn’t seen. He felt a small niggle telling him that there was an occult being nearby, but it was the one he knew oh so well. He kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead, making sure he didn’t lay eyes on Crowley. It would be so disappointing if their time together, such as it was, was terminated because he saw the demon and the banishment kicked in again.

He followed the map and the small trail deeper into the woods, the gathering dusk slowing his way. Just before full dark, Aziraphale came upon a small cottage, its shutters drawn close. This seemed to be the right place, but he knocked first to make sure he wasn’t intruding on anyone. There was no response to his knock, so he tried the door. It was unlocked and swung in to reveal a cozy living area.

There was a small table in front of the fireplace, and a comfortable looking chair next to it, facing away from the door. Another smaller chair was near the wall to his left. A cabinet and a bookcase lined the far wall. He walked to the table to examine the things he found there: a letter, a jug of wine and two mugs, a black silk scarf, and some delicious looking chocolate truffles. He smiled and picked up the letter.

**_So you found your way here. Good. Now this is where it gets a bit weird. Do you trust me, Angel? Well, as much as an angel can trust a demon, I suppose._ **

**_Start up the fire. When I see the smoke, I’ll know you’re inside. Pour yourself some wine. And a mug for me, if all goes well. Use the scarf for a blindfold. Don’t want to take any chances. No peeking, Angel! Have a truffle while you wait, if you want. If I’m right, we’ll be able to talk. If I’m wrong...well, there are a few things tucked away in the cabinet for you, including the deed to this place. If you like it. And I’ll find you when I make it back up here and we’ll just have to content ourselves with letters. But I think it’s worth the chance to hear your voice again. So, hope to see you soon._ **

**_Always, C_ **

Aziraphale felt a bit shaken. He wasn’t at all sure he felt it was worth the risk of not hearing from Crowley for another hundred years or so. But the demon had asked him for his trust, so how could he deny him?

He did as Crowley asked, starting the fire, pouring the wine, and sitting down to tie on the blindfold. He mused that the situation with the blindfold and all could be a lot more fun in the future...when the banishment was over and all. Unless they could touch now? As long as he didn’t see Crowley? Hmmm...he’d have to discuss that with his wiley adversary.

“Hullo, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale felt his heart leap as he heard that beloved voice for the first time in four hundred years. Oh, they had been apart longer than that before, but it was different now. Now that they had admitted they were no longer enemies and were more than friends. He started to turn automatically towards the demon, but Crowley stopped him quickly.

"Don’t turn around, Angel! I don’t know exactly how this banishment thing works, but I know if you see me, we’re done. So...just face forward. Looks like we can talk at least.”

“Oh, my dearest, it is so good to hear you! Come get some wine. I’ll look towards the fire and keep my eyes shut until you’re seated.”

“Alright. Just be careful, Angel.”

Aziraphale faced the fire, eyes squeezed shut beneath the blindfold. His other senses were all focused on Crowley; the soft sound of his footsteps, the scuff on the table as he picked up his cup of wine, the warmth of his body as it passed, and the smell of campfires, night skies, and spice that was unique to the demon. He listened as Crowley retreated and sat in the chair by the door.

"So, Angel...a thousand years? Really? Bit of overkill, wouldn't you say?" The demon said it with a lilt of teasing in his voice. He figured it needed to be said and dealt with so Aziraphale would stop fretting about it.

"I just...panicked!" Aziraphale admitted in a wretched voice. He twisted his ring as he worried his hand, a true tell to just how upset he felt inside.

"On the other hand, it did the trick, didn't it?" Crowley asked gently. "I got a commendation; you got a commendation. No Falling for you; no torture for me. This isn't perfect, but we'll make it through."

"But...I miss you so. I can't believe I sentenced myself to a thousand years without seeing you. Touching you. Kissing you," Aziraphale said in a soft, sad voice. His shoulders began to shake.

Well, shit. That wouldn't do at all! Crowley thought and then he said, "Hey, Angel? Do you know what I'm wearing?"

"Wha-wha-what?" the baffled angel snuffled.

Crowley practically purred. "I'm wearing a charcoal gray silk shirt with blood red leather laces. My black breeches are skin-tight and are laced in red, too. I have the most marvelous boots...they're soft black suede and come halfway up my thighs. Make my legs look like they go on forever. Can you picture me, Angel?"

"Yes," Aziraphale replied, sounding a bit breathless. That was much, much better!

"Now, Angel, I'm untying the laces on my shirt and pulling it over my head. My chest catches the glow from the fire, turning the hairs there a bright copper."

Aziraphale moaned lightly and Crowley moved up behind him, dropping the silk on the angel's shoulder and letting it slide down. Aziraphale quickly grabbed it, bringing it to his cheek and rubbing it gently against his skin. Then he brought it up and breathed in deeply.

"Oh, Crowley, it smells like you!"

"Mmhmm. Now, Angel, I want you to unfasten your belt cord and drop it to the floor." Aziraphale did, still nuzzling the gray silk. Crowley continued just out of arm’s reach behind Aziraphale.

"Now imagine me there in front of you, bare-chested and breathing heavy. I drop to my knees in front of you and gather the hem of your robe, running my hands up along your gorgeous legs. I pause at your thighs to admire and squeeze them. I can't resist and I nip gently along the soft skin on your inner thigh. You groan and let your legs fall open."

As Crowley spoke, Aziraphale moved, completely caught up in the narrative. He pulled up his robe, squeezing his thighs and giving them a pinch as he let them fall open wantonly.

"Oh, Aziraphale," Crowley breathed, "you are so damned beautiful! Please, take off your robe for me. Let me see all of you warmed golden in the firelight."

Aziraphale pouted. "It's not fair Crowley! I can't see you at all."

Crowley sighed. "Yes, yes, alright," he muttered. Reluctantly, he went back to his chair and continued. "Now will you take off your robe? I think you're going to want it off soon."

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, then continued the narrative on his own. "Staring into your beautiful, golden eyes, I continue what you started, slowly pulling my robe up and over my head and letting it drip from my fingers. I take your shirt and ghost it down my chest while you stare up adoringly."

“I pull you to your feet and bring you in close between my legs. Oh, your erection is so tightly trapped in your so-snug trousers. Let me help with that! I lean forward and start undoing your laces with my teeth,” the angel said with a wicked lilt. Crowley groaned and started undoing his laces, imagining Aziraphale’s breath hot and heavy as he worked the leather with his mouth.

"I take my time with the laces, my hands squeezing and kneading your buttocks, keeping you close and still...except for the moans you can't bite back."

"Fuck, Aziraphale!" Crowley groaned, finally getting his laces undone. "I run my hands through your hair, pulling a bit, grounding myself so I don't move my hips. Though I want to. I want to buck up against you. Want your mouth on my skin. But I won't," he groaned again, resisting the urgent need to stroke himself.

"You're being so good for me, dearest," the angel murmured. "There. You are undone. I run my hands slowly down your hips, peeling down your trousers to the top of your boots. Oh, Crowley! You are so gorgeous and hard...all for me! Stand back a step and just let me look."

Crowley shoved his breeches down. He still resisted touching himself, but a needy whine escaped and Aziraphale chuckled. The bastard!

"I think we're done with the breeches. Snap them away, dear boy," the angel commanded. "I want to admire you wearing just those long, lovely boots."

The breeches were gone in an instant, the demon breathing heavily, trying to keep control.

"Oh, you gorgeous creature, come sit in my lap and kiss me!" Aziraphale breathed. "I'm going to touch myself, dearest. I'll try to last, but I'm already so, so close."

With a groan that turned to a gasp, Crowley finally stroked his aching cock, already slick with his yearning. "I straddle your lap, Angel" he choked out, "and eagerly claim your mouth while grinding our cocks together. Oh, Angel! You feel sooo good!"

Aziraphale was lost in their fantasy, his hand working faster and faster. "I quickly get you ready. I'm sorry, my dear. I just cannot wait to do it the human way. I lift your hips and settle you down, thrusting deep within you. Crowley! You feel so hot and tight around me and...and...I won't last long! Move for me, love!"

"I start riding you, Angel," Crowley panted. "You stretch me and fill me so good. Faster...need to go faster. Can't wait. Aziraphale! So close!"

"Come for me, darling! I'm ready, too. Oh...oh, Crowley...Crooowleey!"

The demon was overwhelmed and joined the angel's keening as they both came; separate, but together in their minds and hearts. The world spun to a quiet white ocean foam of light covering them both, leaving them floating in after-ripples in a sea of pleasure.

After a few minutes...or hours...who could tell?...Crowley whispered, "Angel? Are you okay?"

"Mmmhmmm," came a blissful, happy reply.

"Someday in the future, we're going to replay this, Angel. For real. That was...the best thing that's happened to me in four hundred years!"

"Mmmm," Aziraphale agreed, then gathered his well-tumbled thoughts enough to ask, "Crowley, dear, may I...keep your shirt?"

"Well, sure, Angel. If you want. But why?" Crowley asked, knowing but hoping to hear the angel admit it out loud.

Aziraphale was too happy to censor himself. "Smells like you. 'S soft, like your skin. Want it for nights when we're apart."

Crowley pretended to be shocked. "Aziraphale! Angel, are you saying you want my shirt to wank off to?"

"Worse than that, dear boy," the angel replied with a smug smile in his voice. "I intend to cover my pillow with it at night so it will be like snuggling up with you."

Crowley's brain stopped working, but his mouth kept going, saying "ngk!" as though it was a perfectly sensible response. Aziraphale chuckled and waved away his mess, reluctantly reaching down for his robe.

“How often do you think we can meet, my dear?” he asked as he stood and settled his clothing.

“I dunno. Maybe not Christmas. That didn’t go so well last time. New Year’s maybe?” Crowley snapped a new outfit on seeing as Aziraphale had his shirt and he had disappeared his trousers.

“It would be nice to bring in the 1000s with you,” Aziraphale smiled.

“Yep. And New Year’s means plenty of alcohol. I’ll make sure there’s plenty for both of us. And two tables. Might be harder to keep my hands off you after a few bottles.”

“I wanted to ask you about that,” Aziraphale said. “Do you think it might be possible to touch? Maybe if you were behind me and I couldn’t see you?”

“Maybe,” the demon went quiet as he thought about it. “Let’s wait on it, though. Talking is nice. Hell is not. But maybe we can try it sometime next year. We’ll work on it.


End file.
